


Snow Storm

by Kuroshit_10



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Hate to Love, M/M, PG-13, Slow Burn, Sweet Home Alabama, not exactly my proudest moment, older Ciel (17 years old), yes they are cousins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuroshit_10/pseuds/Kuroshit_10
Summary: Edward hates Ciel, and he hates that Ciel and Lizzy will be married soon. Everything changes when Ciel is forced to stay over at the Midford's mansion, and Edward learns more about his cousin.
Relationships: Edward Midford/Ciel Phantomhive
Kudos: 11





	Snow Storm

Edward hated Ciel’s visits.

As Lizzy grew older Ciel came more often. They would marry in the spring, on Lizzy’s eighteenth birthday, and mother said they needed to be better acquainted. The wedding would take place in a Vineyard east of London. There would be daisies and bleached roses and doves and satin tablecloths. Lizzy would wear a thick, bedazzled gown and heavy golden earrings. Birds would chirp and a gentle wind would blow. Sunlight would drip from fluffy clouds. 

Edward would not be there.

His mother had wanted the marriage at church. She had envisioned a proper Anglican wedding: brass bells ringing, organ wailing, soft light streaming through colorful glass windows. But Ciel had resisted. It was the only thing he had been firm on: no church. After a heated argument, Francis had given up. His mother had a soft spot for Ciel.

Even if the wedding had been in a church, Edward would not have attended.

Lizzy had been ecstatic for months. The wedding was all she spoke of. It was always Edward, are these flowers nice and Edward, what do you think about this font and Edward, which carpet looks the best. She never asked him if he would come. She had no reason to— everyone assumed he would be there. But he wouldn’t be. Elizabeth would be crushed. 

As Edward sat across from his younger cousin, peering at his downcast blue eyes, he wondered why the thought of Lizzy and Ciel’s union made him ill. Because Ciel was unfit for his younger sister, he had thought. But was he unfit? How could he be? At seventeen he ran a multinational company, policed the English underworld, and oversaw an Earldom. What part of that screamed unfit?

“Edward, stop glowering,” Francis snapped. 

Edward adjusted his features, “yes, mother.”

Across the table, Ciel sipped his tea. Everyone knew how Edward felt about him. It was old news. Besides, Ciel was an adult— at least, he acted like one. Mother and father were always going on about it. ‘He’s such an adult’ they would remark after Ciel left. And their faces were always grim. It confused Edward, as he was constantly being told he needed to grow up. 

“So, Ciel, Alexis and I have been discussing, and we’ve decided to pay for half of the wedding,” Francis said, spearing a grape with her fork, “our gift to you.”

Ciel looked up, appropriately surprised, “That’s very generous of you, Aunt Francis, but it’s unnecessary. Funtom pulled in a large profit last quarter. It’s more than enough to afford the wedding.”

“It’s more about the gesture than the money,” Alexis Midford boomed from the head of the table. An omnipresent smile shone from his lips, “We appreciate all that you’ve done for Lizzy, and for your family name. You know Francis is more a Phantomhive than she is a Midford. She’s especially grateful.”

Francis scowled and waved a dismissive hand, but it was true. 

“We are proud to have you as our nephew and future son-in-law.”

“Then I shall accept. Thank you both,” Ciel’s cheeks were dusted pink. 

Edward fidgeted with his cloth napkin, picking at the embroidered flowers with his nails. A sour feeling brewed in the pit of his stomach as he watched Lizzy gaze at Ciel, smiling prettily. She was older now, her golden hair lengthier and her emerald eyes sharper— but the way she looked at him had not changed.

“Excuse me,” Edward stood and his chair screamed against the floor. He lifted the napkin from his lap and threw it over his unfinished meal. Gravy bled from the turkey onto the cloth.

“Edward,” Francis hissed, but he was already in the doorway and out of the dining hall.

“My apologies Ciel,” he heard his father say, “he’s like this whenever we mention the wedding. We’re not sure why.”

“It’s alright,” he heard Ciel reply respectfully, his voice soft with distance.

Edward did not know why he had left any more than his parents did. All he knew was that he could not stand to be in the dining hall one second longer, sitting across from his cousin and his sister, and watch as Lizzy reached out to grasp Ciel’s gloved hand and as Ciel smiled at her in return. 

A pace down the hallway outside the dining room Edward stopped to lean his forehead against a Tudor window. His breath made angry crystals on the chilled glass. Outside the snow fell in thick flakes and painted the world white, blanketing skeleton trees and looming buildings. England was deep into winter. In a few months it would be spring. Ciel and Lizzy would be married, Lizzy would move into the Phantomhive manor, and he could put this foolishness behind him. The thought should have liberated him, but instead it tightened the thorny rope around his heart.

“Edward.”

He spun. Ciel was standing there, analyzing him. He was always analyzing. Cold blue eyes drifted over his frame, absorbing his posture and sour expression. In the soft white light, Ciel looked like an angel. 

“What is it?” he asked. He wanted to look away, but like magnets his eyes were drawn to Ciel’s face. Ciel met his gaze.

“I think, as I’ll be marrying your little sister in three months, we should talk.”

“That’s very grown-up of you,” Edward said.

Ciel shrugged, “It’s the right thing to do.”

He spoke like a businessman. At five foot four, he stood taller than most men. Edward felt as though he were in an official meeting with an Earl, not settling a skirmish with his younger cousin. Craning his head up to stare at the ceiling, which glowed with the light from the sconces scattered across the hallway, Edward sighed. 

“Alright. Let’s talk. You don’t love my sister.”

Ciel glared. He was not taken aback. He’d expected this, “I love her. She’s my cousin. I’ve known her for my entire life, and I would do anything to protect her.”

“But you don’t love her,” Edward faltered, his cheeks warming, “like ‘that.’”

Ciel was silent. His gaze joined Edward’s on the ceiling. His lithe arms crossed and he sighed. 

“I have a duty. To our family and the crown, and to Lizzy as well. It doesn’t matter how I feel. No matter how much you grouse about it, we will be married in the spring, and the process will be less painful if you control yourself. Put on a smile for your sister. Bite your tongue. Refrain from storming out of family dinners. It will make life easier for everyone else. Remember your own duty, as I remember mine.”

A fire roared in Edward's veins, stiffening his muscles and clenching his jaw. Fists forming at his sides, he said, “You love to talk down to me, don’t you? Need I remind you that I am your senior?”

“And what does that mean?” Ciel sneered. He leaned inward, standing on his toes so that his face was inches from Edward’s, his breath warm on Edward’s skin. “I am the founder of a prosperous company, and you’re a B student at Weston College. I’ve killed thousands of criminals since I was eleven years old, yet the most action you’ve gotten in was in a fencing match. I’ve run a household, single-handedly, for seven years, while you’re at a marriageable age, yet you still live with your parents. But I owe you respect because you’re older? Because you have two years on me? 

That’s absurd. Who is the one acting like a child?”

In his chest, Edward’s heart pounded out an erratic melody. His arms trembled at his sides as he restrained them, commanding them not to reach out to Ciel, either to touch him or slap him. Ciel’s face was still next to his, mocking him, challenging him.

“I hate you,” Edward whispered, “I don’t know why they can’t see you for what you are.”

At last, Ciel fell back onto his heels, stepping away from Edward.

“Luckily, no one cares how you feel. If you’re smart, you’ll be quiet about it and save yourself the embarrassment.”

With that, he turned on his heels and marched back into the dining room. He was insultingly beautiful, his elegant form juxtaposing his crass words. Ciel was like a rose, beautiful from a distance, but stray too close and he would cut you with his thorns.

.

“Edward. I need to talk to you. Now,” Francis took him by the ear and dragged him into an empty guest room. She slammed the door shut, her claws buried in his innocent ear. 

“Ow! Mother, not so hard,” he glared at her, “when will you stop dragging me by the ear? I’m not a child anymore.”

“You’re not?” she slapped him, “Then why don’t you act like it? You were an embarrassment at dinner today. Both your little sister and your younger cousin were more composed. When will you grow up?”

Edward rolled his eyes, “Funny, I heard the same from Ciel thirty minutes ago. No wonder you like him so much.”

“He went out there to scold you?” For a second, Francis’ eyes widened. It was almost imperceptible, and an instant later her expression was sharp again, all angles and frowns, “Good. Maybe that boy can knock some sense into you.” 

“You’re really okay with him?”

“Ciel? Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Edward was treading a thin line, but he didn’t care. “He doesn’t love her, ma. Isn’t it obvious? How can you let them marry?”

Francis sighed, running a hand over her weary eyes. Sometimes, in moments like these, Edward’s mother looked older than she was. Her eyes became cloudy and distant as if she were peering into a memory. 

“Not everyone has the privilege of marrying for love. And love is not what that boy wants. He’s gotten the rotten end of love too many times. He doesn’t trust it anymore.”

They were silent for a while, Francis looking grim as Edward puzzled over what she meant. He didn’t know much about Ciel’s past, only that his parents had been killed in a fire when he was ten. But that had been seven years ago. Surely he would be over it by now. 

Francis broke the silence, “Besides, Lizzy’s in love enough for the both of them.”

“But isn’t that the problem?” Edward protested, “What will happen when she discovers she’s the only one in love? It’ll destroy her.” 

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure she already suspects he doesn’t feel the same. She’s not an idiot, you know. He’ll be good for her. Ciel’s responsible, and he’s more than capable of taking care of Phantomhive’s legacy. Far more capable than Vincent was, rest his soul. She’ll be safe with him.”

“But-“ finding he had nothing more to say, Edward fell silent. Every cell in his body screamed at him to say something intelligent, but there was nothing to say. They were a good, practical match. 

“I know how you love Lizzy, Edward, but this is the best path for her. All you have to do is be quiet and supportive.”

“Ciel said something to that effect,” Edward grumbled. 

“He’s wise,” Francis said. 

“He’s cruel.”

“He’s been through more than you can imagine. Please try to remember that,” his mother said, caressing the cheek she had slapped, “now go to bed. You have a big heart, Edward, but you can trust us to know what’s best for Elizabeth. And you must behave better towards Ciel. You have your family to turn to, and he has no one.”

She slipped out the door more silently than she had arrived, leaving Edward alone in the bedroom. He gazed at the silent bed and shelves and curtains, all of them left alone for years and covered in a sheen of dust, and wondered when he’d be old enough to understand it all. 

.

Edward couldn’t sleep. He laid on his back with his eyes open and listened to the chirping of night birds outside his window. The fire crackled in the hearth, lighting his shadowy room aglow. 

Ciel was sleeping over. The snow had been too strong for travel by carriage, so he had taken the guest bedroom beside Edward’s room. Whether the proximity was intentional or a coincidence was beyond him; regardless, he couldn’t stop thinking about what his cousin was doing on the other side of the wall. Was he sleeping? Certainly not. Ciel didn’t seem the type to sleep. He acted as though he didn’t have such weaknesses. Was he plotting? Was he dreaming up a list of nasty things to say to Edward in their next argument? Was he congratulating himself on his plethora of accomplishments? Head of a house, head of a company, police of the underground— Edward would never hear the end of it. 

Groaning, Edward rolled over and buried his face into his fluffy down pillow. He needed to stop thinking of Ciel, because every time he did his blood turned into fire, burning hotter than the hearth. Ciel was an enigma— a mysterious force that he would never understand, and it would be best to give up and focus his attention elsewhere. Focus on finding himself a girlfriend. Focus on earning his knighthood. Focus on any of the things infinitely more productive than a rivalry with his cousin.

Outside, in the hallway, a door creaked open. Edward was torn from his thoughts. Slowly, he slipped from bed and padded over to the doorway, pressing his ear against the oak door. Through the wood, he could hear the gentle pulsing of voices. It was Ciel talking to his butler. They were going somewhere.

Voices turned into footsteps which turned into silence as Ciel left the hallway. Forgetting his determination to focus on something more productive, Edward snatched an overcoat from his wardrobe, threw on a pair of shoes, and hurried out the door. Squinting, he found the darkened hallway was empty. Ciel was out of sight. No matter, the house had only three exits, the kitchen exit being the closest to Edward’s bedroom. Edward, who knew the house like the back of his hand, could reach the door before Ciel left. He need only be quiet. 

Trees, blown by a frosty wind, attacked the windows lining the hallway. Edward shivered, pulling his jacket around his arms. The cold bit at his skin with its spiky teeth, and he longed for the fireplace in his room. He considered turning back then, but curiosity drew him forward.

Edward entered the kitchen as Ciel left. He stole a glimpse of silvery-blue hair before he was out of sight, his butler following closely behind him. They were both dressed in day clothes and their hands were free of suitcases. No carriage could be called at this hour nor in the inclement weather. So where were they going?

Edward braced himself for the cold and slipped out of the kitchen. Before he did, he dug around in the drawer farthest to the right of the wooden island at the center of the kitchen, his hand searching until it found the crisp metal of a pistol. 

Edward trailed his cousin past the manor’s snowy backyard and into the bare forest beyond, far enough to go unnoticed yet close enough to eavesdrop despite the roaring of the arctic wind.

“It’s so bloody cold,” Ciel was complaining, “these temperatures shouldn’t be legal. I’m going to lose a hand.”

“Don’t be ludicrous,” Sebastian replied, “I’ve never seen a human lose his hand after five minutes of being in the cold. You’re merely uncomfortable.”

“Don’t speak of things you know nothing about,” Ciel grumbled. 

Interesting, Edward thought as he crunched through the snow, they’re completely at ease with each other. More comfortable than they let on at dinner parties and balls, where Ciel would bark orders at Sebastian in between pretending the butler didn’t exist. Edward thought back to what his mother had said: “You have us, Edward. He has nobody.” That wasn’t true. Ciel had found a family. 

“Why didn’t I choose a closer meeting spot?” Ciel complained as the forest cleared for a snow-covered road. It was the gravel road merchants took when traveling to London. The Midfords used it for travel to the nearby villages as well, so Edward recognized it immediately— the monstrous oak trees which bent toward the passageway, their thick arms clawing the air above the road, were unmistakable. 

“He’s not here yet,” Sebastian said when his master scanned the snowy path, “he’s about a half-mile north. He’ll be here in under five minutes.”

“Brilliant,” Ciel groaned, wrapping his down coat to his shoulders. His paper-white skin was flushed lily-pink with cold, and his jaw was jumping sporadically. Edward, who wore a thinner overcoat, was handling the cold better. There was goose flesh covering his limbs, but the frigidity hadn’t reached his bones. He reveled in the fact that, in at least one way, he was stronger than Ciel Phantomhive. 

In his triumph he lost his balance, his shoes sliding in the snow and casting him onto his hands and knees. It was a soft sound, the gentle whump of hands against the snow, but it was enough to draw Sebastian’s attention. The butler’s sharp eyes snapped to his, and Edward froze, his hands buried in the fluffy cold. He opened his mouth to explain himself, but Sebastian merely brought a finger to his lips, then turned back towards his master as if nothing had happened.

“When we return, I want a hot cup of tea,” Ciel was saying, “and then I want to move to India.”

Edward, confused beyond belief, drew his freezing hands out of the snow and rose to his feet, stepping back a pace and taking cover behind a tree. 

“That’s a long list of complaints from someone so adamant on maturity,” Sebastian said, as if nothing had happened, “I recall you telling your cousin… what was it? ‘Be quiet, for you’ll only make a fool out of yourself by complaining.’ I believe that is what you said.”

Edward’s jaw dropped. The nerve of a servant challenging his master like that. Even if they were familiar it was entirely out of line. Still, Edward felt a new respect for Sebastian as Ciel grew pink in the face, drawing his thin fingers into fists.

“The only one out here to annoy is you,” he said hotly, “and I’m quite alright with that. Bastard.”

Sebastian only smiled in response, as at that moment a carriage curved around the bend in the road and plowed through the snow. The unbalanced vehicle charged towards them like an angry boar, all wild horses and chipped paint. An instant before it reached Ciel it came to a screeching halt. The door flew open and a thin, rugged man jumped into the snow.

“Lord Phantomhive, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He stuck out a spidery hand which Ciel gingerly shook.

“Yes, a pleasure,” he said absently, “I apologize for the change in location. I got tied up due to the weather.”

The man laughed and smacked the side of his carriage, “Ay, I understand, my lord. Not everyone’s got a beauty like this to ride through the snow. Bessie’s a special one.”

“Bessie- ah yes, special indeed. Now, shall we begin?”

“Of course...” the thin man paused and wrung his hands together expectantly. Edward noticed his eyes dart to the side, peering past Ciel almost imperceptibly. Edward followed his gaze.

Tucked behind a crumbling roadside wall, across the street from Ciel, was a man. Only the wayward fabric of his jacket was visible past the wall, but immediately Edward recognized the situation for what it was. Ciel was being tricked. Edward sucked in a short burst of frosty air as the man swayed enough so that his right hand was in view. He held a gun.

“Ciel!” Edward yelled, barreling out of his hiding spot. Ciel turned, his ocean eyes wide as saucers. His mouth hung ajar and his hands floated at his sides as if he were searching for the support of a table that was not there. 

“Edward, what are you doing-“

“Look out!” Edward pinned Ciel to the ground as a shot whizzed past, missing his ear by inches. The angry buzz of the bullet reverberated inside his brain. The snowy ground was cold, but heat radiated from Ciel’s chest, which fluttered like a butterfly beneath him.

“Edward-“ Ciel grit out, glaring up at him, “Were you following me?”

Another gunshot echoed off the trees. Edward flinched and Ciel did not.

“I think there are more pressing issues,” Edward said. Already, both men from the carriage were advancing towards them, their expressions murderous. Gone was the rugged, over-enthusiastic businessman: in his place stood an assassin. 

“Pressing? Irritating at best. I was going to deal with them, you know. You shouldn’t have intervened,” Ciel sounded annoyed. It was as if Edward had interrupted tea time and not saved his life.

“What’s your problem? I believe the proper response is gratitude. Thank you, Edward, for saving my worthless life.”

Ciel flushed, “Get off me, will you?”

Edward, despite himself, colored too. He had been too angry to realize he was still above Ciel with both hands planted beside Ciel’s head. Their faces were scandalously close.

“Of course,” he pushed himself off Ciel and dragged his attention back to the danger at hand, only to find it had already been taken care of. Both men were writhing on the ground like worms atop the earth, their hands clasping their sides as blood poured from open wounds. Sebastian drifted to Ciel’s side.

“It’s taken care of, my lord,” he said.

“What’s taken care of?” Edward asked.

“None of your damn business,” Ciel growled, spinning to face Edward, “I should be the one asking questions. Why did you follow me?” And then, to Sebastian, “And why didn’t you say anything?”

Sebastian only smiled while Edward sputtered out an answer, words flowing from his mouth like water from a broken faucet.

“I- you see, I was just sleeping and then- well, I heard you leave and so-“

Ciel did not look amused. He reminded Edward distinctly of his mother.

“I didn’t think.”

Ciel rolled his eyes, “Of course. How typical.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Edward said.

Ciel ignored him, “We should go back. It’s bloody cold out here.“ He punctuated the sentence with a cough and a shiver. He looked cold. The red around his eyes illuminated his blue irises, and his face was paperwhite. His thin fingers, which clutched at his coat, were blue.

“You’re like Lizzy,” Edward said, “here, have my jacket. I’m not that cold anyway.”

He took his jacket off and offered it to Ciel, who flinched away from it like it was a dead rat. 

“Are you joking?” he snarled. When it became clear that Edward was not, in fact, joking, he sighed.

“Keep your bloody jacket. I’m not a girl.”

Ah, Edward thought, it was pride that kept Ciel cold. For the first time, he took a long, hard look at his cousin. His wide blue eyes. The downward turn of his lips. His eyepatch. He didn’t know much about Ciel, but if he knew anything it was that hubris would be Ciel’s downfall. Suddenly, Edward understood why Francis’ eyes glossed over whenever she looked at Ciel. 

Edward shrugged, “Your loss.”

.

Edward arrived late to breakfast. The sun did not wake him as it typically did. Instead, he was aroused by the sharp rapping of a maid’s fist on his door.

“Master Edward, it’s time for breakfast.”

He threw on a suit, ran a hand through his hair, and jogged to the dining hall where his family awaited. Ciel was there too, polished as if he hadn’t spent the night in the cold. He was eating a plate of eggs in the most refined matter. His cold eyes were trained downward as Lizzy, seated to his right, blabbered. The seat to Ciel’s left was empty and Edward took it, earning himself a bewildered glance from everyone in the room.

“Edward, how kind of you to grace us with your presence,” Francis said, fixing him with a stare.

“You’re welcome, mum,” he muttered into his plate.

“You look as if you’ve just risen,” Alexis said.

“Thank you, dad,” Edward muttered again, glaring at his eggs. At his side, Ciel shook with suppressed laughter. 

“We were just talking about Weston,” Francis said as she picked at a flaky croissant, “I think Ciel should consider receiving some sort of formal education. There’s a difference between attending college and hiring tutors, wouldn’t you say, Edward?”

His mother was trying to try to drag him into another one of her schemes. Francis’s favorite hobby, aside from fencing, was nagging Ciel. It was perplexing. When Ciel wasn’t around she spoke endlessly of his accomplishments, yet when he arrived she did nothing but chide him.

“I think Ciel’s done well enough for himself,” Edward said around a mouthful of toast, “with everything he’s got going on attending school would be a waste, no?”

Francis grunted and Ciel cast a sideways look at Edward, who shrugged his shoulders. He might hate his cousin, but he valued honesty above all else. It was a knightly quality. He was willing to fall on a sword to protect the truth. 

The conversation continued for a quarter-hour. Edward focused on his toast while Ciel and his parents exchanged words, Ciel behaving with appropriate decorum, always the perfect gentleman. Snow flurries beat the Tudor windows, the frigid tundra outside juxtaposing the warm dining hall. A fire burned bright in the hearth and cast a sunny glow onto glasses of orange juice and platters of eggs, pastries, and pancakes. Servants bustled to and from the kitchen, collecting plates and refilling goblets. The air smelled of syrup and blueberries. Edward ate to satisfaction, and upon finishing his last crumb the family stood up and parted ways.

Edward immediately strode towards the fencing hall to practice, but he was stopped halfway down the long hallway by Ciel, who grabbed his shoulder. Edward spun and looked down at his cousin. Ciel had grown in recent years but he was still several centimeters shorter than Edward, his odd blue-gray hair inline with Edward’s eyebrows.

“What do you want?” Edward asked, itching to start his fencing practice. 

“We need to talk about last night,” Ciel said. His icy gaze froze Edward to the ground, “you can’t tell anyone about what you saw.”

“I don’t know what I saw,” Edward answered truthfully, “but I’m from a family of knights, and my mother was a Phantomhive. I’m not completely oblivious to your world, you know. Getting shot at isn’t anything new.”

“Right,” Ciel ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “That’s good. The less you understand the better. One more thing. If the snow continues and I have to stay the night, you must not follow me again. Swear to me that you won’t.”

Edward frowned, “You’re going out again?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“My family lives in this house. Of course it’s my business.”

Ciel rolled his eyes, fixing them upward as though begging for divine intervention, “Your family won’t be involved. I give you my word.”

“They’re not the only ones I’m worried about. You’re my family too, Ciel.”

Edward was surprised as Ciel’s eyes widened and then narrowed, squinting at Edward as if he’d just declared the sky was orange. A beat late, Ciel laughed.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve handled this sort of thing since before I was a teenager. You don’t- you don’t need to worry about me.” Ciel seemed to squirm, though Edward must have imagined it. Ciel Phantomhive did not squirm.

“Fine. Then I give you my word.” Edward said, though something inside his chest withered as he spoke.

“Good. Then our conversation is over.”

Ciel spun on his heel and stalked off down the hallway.

“Would you like to join me for fencing?” Edward shouted after him.

“Hilarious,” Ciel yelled, his back to Edward as he disappeared around the corner. 

.

Edward was drowning in sweat and focus when a finger tapped his shoulder. He flinched, dropping his saber, which clattered to the floor, and turning to find Lizzy, her golden hair glowing through his mesh mask. She smiled and waved at him, reaching upward to remove his helmet.

“What is it, Elizabeth?” Edward panted, threading a hand through his sweaty hair. It was several hours after breakfast, nearing lunchtime, and Edward was exhausted, but he couldn’t afford a break. He wasn’t a natural talent like his sister. He needed to train. 

“I need to talk to you,” Lizzy said, beaming at him. She wore a pastel pink dress covered in subtle white frills. It was her favorite dress. She had worn it for Ciel.

“About what?” Edward asked, picking his saber off the floor. He had a sneaking suspicion that he knew exactly what Lizzy wanted to discuss. 

“Ciel.” she said, “It’s nice that you’re getting along with him, by the way.”

“Getting along?” Edward scowled, “what gave you that impression?”

Lizzy gave a tinkling laugh that sounded like wind chimes and spring, “Just finish up and take a bath. I’ll be waiting in the alcove near the garden exit. Meet me there a few minutes before lunch, alright?”

“Do I have to?”

“Please.”

“Fine.”

Lizzy clapped her hands and grinned at him, her emerald eyes lighting up as they always did when Edward was kind. He couldn’t deny his sister, despite his knighthood exams which loomed in the near future. Lizzy was the sun, and he was a tiny planet in helpless orbit. 

He washed up and met his sister in the hallway near the gardens. A concave area in the hall, covered with large windows, displayed the snowy garden. Even in the winter it was beautiful— the neat rows of trees sprinkled with sugary snow, the pond iced over and gleaming like polished crystal. Lizzy fit the ethereal scene, her porcelain skin sparkling in the white light.

“Edward, I know you followed Ciel last night,” was the first thing she said. Her voice was low and dangerous, her expression dark. On the surface Lizzy was an innocent, bubbly girl, but beneath she was their mother. A Phantomhive. It was easy to forget. Edward, on the other hand, was his father: a Midford. Midfords were hardworking and stupid and easygoing, and Lizzy was only one of those things.

“How do you know?” Edward asked, his mouth open a bit too wide. 

“I followed him too,” Lizzy said smugly.

“You what?!”

Smiling, she waved a gloved hand, “Oh, don’t be so surprised. I thought he would be up to something at night. He’s always up to something. And I’m going to be his wife, so I need to know what’s happening. I need to protect him, Edward, and I can’t do that with a blindfold over my eyes. He wants me to stay out of things, and I used to think that was what I would do, but- you know how I am. I can’t do nothing.” her voice grew more frantic and desperate as she spoke. This was something that had weighed down her mind for a long time. She needed Edward to understand. Needed to unload her weight onto him.

“Okay, okay,” Edward said, holding his hands up, “I understand. I’m just surprised that I didn’t notice you.”

“I know how to sneak properly, unlike someone-“ she grinned.

“Hey, I was saving his bloody life, darting out of hiding like that!”

“I was referring to the time that you fell into the snow and Sebastian saw you. I know you were saving his life when you ran out of hiding. Getting close and personal too.”

Edward’s cheeks bloomed with color, “You saw that? You know I-“

Lizzy laughed, “It’s fine, I’m only joking.”

Edward’s cheeks did not cool and he brought a hand to his face to hide his burning skin. Lizzy grinned impishly at him. He tried to swat at her but she danced out of his reach, her dress flowering around her.

“What did you really want to talk about?” Edward asked as his face drained of color.

“I want to follow him again,” Lizzy said, suddenly sober. Internally, Edward cursed as he remembered his promise to Ciel. Edward was to be a knight, and knights kept their word. Ciel knew this about his cousin, which was why he had asked Edward for a promise instead of threatening him. 

“Why? Don’t you think we should stay out of his business? It’s improper for a knightly family to participate in espionage. One night was enough.”

Lizzy frowned, “This is important, Edward. Did you see what was in the trunk of that carriage? Did you see what Sebastian did?”

“What do you mean?” Edward asked. He thought back to last night. He hadn’t seen the trunk of the carriage, and he’d been too busy arguing with Ciel to pay attention to Sebastian. The bullets buzzing like bees past his head had commanded his attention.

Lizzy’s voice dropped to a whisper. She leaned towards him, “There was a child’s body in the trunk. And Sebastian  _ burned _ it.”

“No…” the words sunk into Edward’s flesh like icy snowflakes and raised the goosebumps on his arms. “Are you quite sure?” He whispered.

“Yes,” Lizzy said firmly, “I saw the face clearly. It was a dead child. There was a sort of symbol on its forehead— I couldn’t see what, exactly. While you and Ciel were bickering, Sebastian— he must’ve taken out a match— because he put his hands near the child’s corpse and it burned.”

Edward knit his eyebrows, “That’s not possible. I was only speaking with Ciel for a few seconds. I would’ve smelled it.”

Lizzy’s eyes brightened, and she leaned closer yet, “That’s the thing. It was an unusual fire: it ate the child and disappeared in seconds.”

“Impossible.”

“I swear I saw it,” Lizzy said.

Edward looked out the window, past the garden and into the deep woods surrounding the manor. Lizzy’s version of what had taken place last night was so different and so far-fetched in comparison to his, but he believed her. His sister wouldn’t lie to him. There was something more to the events of last night. It explained why Ciel had sworn him to secrecy. 

Edward closed his eyes and imagined the glossy eyes and clammy skin of a dead child. He imagined a small head draped over the edge of the carriage, bumping along as it drove over the snow. Why had the child been there? Why had the men taken it to Ciel? What was happening?

“Edward, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he said, rubbing his tired eyes, “Look. I don’t think you should get involved. Leave the dead children to Ciel. If you follow him tonight you’ll wish you had stayed behind. There’s no need to get caught up in his web.”

Lizzy frowned, then narrowed her eyes, “Ciel talked to you, didn’t he? That’s why you’re acting weird.”

Edward sighed, “How can you read me so easily?”

“You’re like a book.”

“You’re right. He did talk to me, and he made me swear not to follow him tonight. But that’s not the only reason I think you shouldn’t go. Dead children and strange symbols and unusual fires— that’s over your head, Lizzy. It’s over all of our heads, except maybe Ciel’s. Ciel has plenty of skilled servants. You don’t need to protect him.”

Lizzy looked at him with disappointment, the way his mother did whenever he lost a match or failed a class. She crossed her thin arms and tapped a shiny green foot.

“Fine. I’ll do it without you.” She spun on her heel and stalked off to the dining room. The smell of toasted bread and tomato soup wafted into the hallway.

“Elizabeth!” Edward protested, but she ignored him, already out of sight. He sighed, falling back against a chilled window on the alcove. Ciel’s business was too dangerous for Lizzy, but once his sister decided to climb a mountain she didn’t stop until she reached the peak. She would trail Ciel again tonight, probably to another shady location, and she would risk getting hurt. Despite his promise to Ciel, he couldn’t let her go alone. More important than his honesty was his sister’s life.

“Fucking Ciel Phantomhive,” he muttered under his breath, “I can’t wait until he leaves.” 

He stalked after Lizzy into the dining room where lunch awaited. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
